She would have never met Nathan.
As much as it hurt to think she’d meant nothing to him, the thought of having never known his touch, or his kiss, or the pleasure they shared, was too bleak to imagine.
Zael shook his head, his voice low. “Raya could not promise to give herself to another man. She begged for a different punishment, but Selene would not be swayed. Finally, on the day Raya and you were to leave the court for your new home, she took a drastic, irrevocable step.”
“What happened?” Jordana whispered, her heart in her throat.
“Raya put you in the palace nursery. Then she went to her chambers, locked herself in, and set the place ablaze. By the time the fire was discovered, it was too late. Even an immortal could not heal from the wounds Raya inflicted on herself.”
Jordana choked on a ragged breath. “And Cassianus? What did he do?”
Zael smiled sadly, proudly. “He did what any loving parent would do. Risked everything to take you away from there and ensure that you had a new life—a better life. One where Selene’s guards wouldn’t find you. Cass wanted you to have a life of your own choosing.”
Except the irony was, as good as her life had been living with Martin Gates as his child, it hadn’t been authentic. She’d lived under the cloak of secrets and half-truths, never really knowing who—or what—she was. She’d never been given the chance to know the two people who brought her into the world and gave up everything, including their lives, because of her.
Two people she missed keenly now, despite having had them in her life so briefly.
“Why did she do it?” Jordana murmured. “Why couldn’t the queen just let them be happy together? Why chase Cass down and kill him after all this time? Why keep her guards searching for me?”
Zael’s tropical blue eyes were steady on her. “Because Soraya was her only child.”
Jordana went still. She shook her head slowly, at a complete and sudden loss for words.
When she couldn’t speak, Zael did it for her. “You, Jordana, are Selene’s granddaughter. You are her only living heir to the Atlantean throne.”
25
IN THE HOUR FOLLOWING CARYS’S ARRIVAL, THE BOSTON COMMAND center buzzed with sober conversation and urgent preparation for a do-or-die sweep of the city.
Gathered in the weapons room along with Nathan, Rafe and Eli and Jax rehashed the team’s game plan for turning the city upside down in their search for the Atlantean bastard who had Jordana. In the corridor outside the war room, Sterling Chase and his mate, Tavia, were attempting to reassure a shattered, sobbing Martin Gates that the Order would do everything in its power to find Jordana quickly and bring her back, safe and sound.
Nathan had no words for anyone. He had no energy to expend on talking or hoping or wishing. He had no patience for consolation or promises that morning wouldn’t be allowed to break without Jordana returned home.
All he had was his determination, his ruthless discipline.
With robotic efficiency, Nathan suited up in his patrol gear. In utter silence—with deadly calm purpose—he zipped and cinched, buckled and tied his black fatigues and combat boots, then strapped on his weapons belt and holsters for multiple firearms.
He would find Jordana.
There would be no failing that mission.
There would be no failing her, not ever again.
He had never been more committed to any goal in all his life. Jordana was all that mattered to him. If she were found harmed—if the man who took her tonight inflicted even the smallest pain on her—Nathan would eviscerate the son of a bitch.
Slowly.
He knew countless ways to kill, incrementally when necessary. If Jordana was hurt in any way, her abductor was going to suffer the full, merciless force of Nathan’s wrath.
He readied the last of his weapons and threw a hard look on his team. “Let’s go.”
Leading the way, he stalked out to the corridor with Rafe, Jax, and Eli.
They were halfway up the winding hallway when Carys came rushing around a corner, her face stricken and grave. She clutched her comm unit in a white-knuckled grasp. “Nathan, wait. Something’s happened.”
The female’s fearful voice just about stopped his heart. He was almost afraid to guess at this new, obviously bad news. “Jordana?”
Carys shook her head. “There was an attack at La Notte a few minutes ago. Syn’s been killed. Rune wants to talk to you.”